Hunting For The Witch
by Zura
Summary: The Warden heads into the mountains to find the sorceress and closure but not everything goes the way he thought it would. A different take on their reunion that may serve as a lead in to the canon ending or stand on its own. Male Dalish Warden, told from a first person perspective.
1. Thunder & Lightning

The gray sky above was full of snow but had chosen not to share it all day. Trekking along through the mountains and fields of white was almost a spiritual experience. There was no soft murmur of the city, no hum of the forest or wind blowing across green grass. Everything was muted, hushed, immovable. The unchanging, high peaks and unbroken, smooth drifts didn't seem to care about one tiny trespasser.

The slight crunching of snow under wide, woven shoes and borderline numb extremities were the only distractions on the lonely, enchanted path forward. All my life I'd been tracking; it was harder in a blizzard and winter cold but the basics were the same. The prints I encounter and stoop to investigate indicated something not native to the area or the clime. I knew I was close but this simply confirmed it. Spiders of this size did not forage out in the cold often.

Adjusting my mittens I pull the thick scarf down and out of my tattooed face. It is chilly but refreshing to walk for a while without the moisture of my own breath clinging to my features. The Dalish rarely made camp so far from verdant forests, the real ones anyway. Humans often made the mistake of thinking we were closely intertwined with city elves. I had never met one before leaving the Brecilian. It was a great irony that I now spent most of my time inside stone walls that always felt like they were hemming me in. There was something unnatural about going too long without sleeping under the sky.

It was a couple of hours past mid day when I sight the cave. Set on a crag halfway down the slope of a mighty mountain was a flat, jutting piece of rock roughly spear shaped that extended over the edge of the cliff it was set into. It formed a rough tower by going straight down on each side of the spear about ten feet before joining the rest of the mountain at the edge of the cliff. From on top of it one would have an expansive view of the underlying area and to the casual observer it looked like an ordinary rock feature. There was a suspiciously placed bit of shrubbery on top of the spear head and too many tracks led this way for me to be wrong. If I had been less sure I would have waited and watched to see where smoke came out but I knew my journey was almost at an end.

Pulling the scarf up over my face I made the hike up to the sheer outcropping. Circling around the jagged and deadly drop some sixty feet down to where the mountainside leveled out I walked on top of the spear head that was around thirty feet in length and twenty in width. A third of it was hanging out over the edge and I dared to walk to the end to peek over the side. There was a small cluster of plants at the bottom that wouldn't provide much protection if I were to slip. I have to chuckle at the thought of dying from a careless fall given what I had survived in my lifetime.

Investigating the shrubs that shouldn't be growing on solid rock I smile under a layer of fabric as I see the flue they masked. Returning to the mountain's slope I walk down from the spear rock along the side of it where the cliff begins and remove my large snow shoes. Holding on to the base of the 'tower' I lean out over the edge and attempt to see the cave's entrance. There is a ledge about five feet up that indicated to me I'd found it but getting to it would be tricksy. Unburdening myself I set down my pack, bow, quiver and random knives but keep my main, dragon bone Dar'Misaan on my back. Stuffing my mittens in my pockets I sink nimble fingers into the cold rocks and free climb up to the ledge. They find enough purchase for me to be comfortable holding my weight and I carefully move fully onto the cliff with a lethal drop below me.

Hefting my weight to the ledge I haul myself onto it and use my legs to push me the rest of the way. I had found a tunnel like area under the spear shaped rock that likely served as a front porch. About twelve feet back from the edge the cave mouth narrowed to a handful of feet where a thick, leather flap had been installed. Drawing my blade I kept it at my side and pushed through the crude door. There was another flap just behind it and darkness behind that which I slipped into out of the winter cold.

It was pitch black in the chamber and I let my senses adjust before moving any farther. The flaps did an excellent job of keeping the wind out and I take in a number of clues about the room without another step. I smell cinders, food, dried plants and pungent herbs mixing together with animal furs. The room is small judging from the lack of air current and there is paper nearby...perhaps books. I wait for something to happen, movement, a breath, anything. When it is clear I am alone my Dar'Misaan ignited on my mental command and a sheath of hellfire engulfs the blade. Holding it up like a torch over my head it dispels the darkness around me.

The chamber is fairly wide, circular and had a high ceiling that the spear shaped rock likely provided the roof for. Straight ahead is the fireplace with the flue running up the wall and it is somewhat misshapen. Piles of furs and stacks of logs waited by the equally amateur crafted mantle and hearth. To the right is a large loft bed constructed more expertly from local wood and underneath it was a small study complete with chair. To the left against the curving cave wall is a cooking area and the only dead give away feature of the room was the small, professionally made vanity just past the loft set against the farthest corner.

The chamber is not warm but it is not frigid either and I notice many candles as well as torch braziers attached to the walls. Going around in a circle I use my blade to light the torches and brighten the chamber almost to day. Dismissing the flames and sheathing my weapon I inspect the kitchen area first. There is a waist high pantry and a stove placed on top of it with pots and pans suspended above by a metal framework. Rummaging through the cabinets I find a depleted if roomy larder that contained many human made, long lasting products. Swiping my fingers on a couple of the pots near my head I taste them and judge when they've last been used. If I had to hazard a guess I would say the food was purchased less than two months ago and the pots had been used within a week.

Heading over to the vanity I am surprised to see a very special gold mirror. Picking it up I look at my own reflection as the chambers slowly warms. Covered in white furs, white cloth and a wide hood only my eyes are showing. One can barely see the blank ink that dominates the left half of my forehead. Setting the mirror down I notice a number of other expensive pieces of jewelry I bought or acquired long ago strewn carelessly around the desk. I have to wonder if they've been this way for some time or were purposefully laid out as a reminder.

Heading to the study I sit down in the hand made chair in front of the large, L shaped table. Musty, exotic and aromatic ingredients were stored to the left with stacks of smaller books. The rest of the table was covered in notes, ink, parchment and thick, large grimoires. I only recognize one of the books and none of the arcane symbols before me. I spend a few minutes contemplating what I had seen with only the crackling torches to keep me company.

The weight of things begins to fall on me and I felt pinned to the chair. I could have no way of knowing for sure if she was even here but I knew that I was right. It did nothing to make me feel better and if anything it made me feel worse. I would not harass someone that wished to be left alone though. My thoughts were killing me but it was time to move on. There were questions that needed to be answered and for better or worse I had at least partially done that. Reaching over to my left hand I slowly tug a simple rosewood ring from my finger. There is a large book open at the center of the desk and I set the shifting ring down on it. I stare at it there for a few minutes before I get up to put the torches out. Expunging the last one by the kitchen I feel my way along to the entrance flaps and go out the way I came.

Going to the cave's cliff entrance I see that it would have been much easier to get in from the other side. There was a natural step formation there and I put my gloves back on to jump down to the the flat mountain slope. I had to go around the spear shaped rock to the other side where my equipment lay but it only took a few extra minutes and certainly worth not having to make the climb in reverse. Fitting my snow shoes back on I geared up and went a ways up the slope to orient myself. I had been heading northwest and instead of going back the way I came it actually would be easier to continue north to clear the mountains. Going down to where I had started I then angle north towards the distant Waking Sea.

I walk for a couple minutes on the flatter, tree covered ground at the foot of the mountain when I feel a presence behind me and to my right. On its own my hand draws the Dar'Misaan and I spin to point it at whatever was in my space. The flames erupt along it as I aim the tip of the blade at a lone, white wolf. Its yellow eyes stared at me inquisitively from fifteen feet away and I stare back for a few seconds. Realizing what was happening I sigh and let my guard down. The flames go out and I slide the weapon into place again. The wolf and I stare at each other before I raise a hand expectantly. The animal barks at me and I shake my head.

"This is ridiculous." I denounce. "If you have something to say, say it."

The wolf tilts its head and barks twice. I turn on my heel to walk away but there is a familiar sound behind me and a familiar voice said, "_Aneth ara_."

I stop where I am but I don't answer. She had a good memory. "You would leave without saying a word?" the seductive, well mannered voice asked. I look up at the gray sky that would not jealously guard its snowflakes forever. A delay meant that I would be moving through heavy snow.

"_Vir Assan,_ the Way of the Arrow." I recite without turning around. "Be swift and silent, strike true, do not waver and do not let your prey suffer."

"That is a no, then?" the voice asked from closer by.

"I wasn't planning on it." I reply as I continue to gaze upwards.

"Face me, Warden." she commanded. I did not turn down challenges often and for once I considered it. Taking a deep breath I turned to regard her.

Similarly outfit in white furs Morrigan was radiant even in the cold. Nary more than her head was showing but her furs fit snugly to her always shapely body. She was taller than me which had been strange at first but was something I'd gotten over quickly. Her yellow eyes were alert and dissecting as ever but there were no traces of joy in them. She had always been smiling and laughing the last few months we traveled together but the witch looked like she had forgotten how in the last two years.

Approaching as a feral animal stalks an injured meal she stepped lightly to me. I do not flinch as she slowly lifts back my hood and pulls my scarf down to my neck. Her hands are cold but gentle when she reaches up to my long, well pinned black hair and frees the several braids that hang down both sides of my face. "There. That's how I remember you." she said. "Though you were often happier to see me."

I don't respond. I had years to plan this moment and now that is was here my words failed me. So many times I'd imagined all the things I'd say right now yet none of them came forth. A bemused look that I knew well crossed her face and she noted, "My, how you've changed. Always so curious before. Now you stand as a silent elven statue."

I still could not think of what to tell her. Phrases flew around in my head but none of them wanted to be free. Too many things I could say: angry, happy, mournful, understanding, acidic, sarcastic, yearning. Nothing felt right. The only over arching sense I had was to get away before things became worse. Finally I manage to boil it down to a couple of words.

"Goodbye, Morrigan." I say and turn to leave for a second time. I don't make it very far as the witch puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Stop." she ordered. "You did not come all the way here to leave now."

"And what if I did?" I ask without looking at her.

"You didn't. Now come up for tea."

She left me standing there and started walking back up to the cave. Slightly vexed at her attitude I nevertheless swallow my stubbornness and grumble, "_Ma nuvenin..._"

Following the apostate back to her home I go around to the easier side and she simply turned into a hawk to flap up onto the ledge. I have to smirk at her methods as I take the long way to get in. Bringing my equipment outside her door to be at least a little protected from the elements I enter to find the cave already well lit.

The witch is heating water and pays me no mind as I take off my outer layers. Underneath are simple, green Dalish clothes my clan had made for me. Rubbing my hands together I kneel in front of the hearth and start piling logs in the fire place. "I need-" I started and she snapped her fingers. The logs burst into flame in front of me and I jump back in surprise. She chuckled ever so softly and despite nearly having my eyebrows singed off I knew that I had estimated correctly. The sound was a sad, hollow snicker that had none of the music I remembered.

As the water boiled she too shed her winter clothing. Underneath she had her trademarked, scantily clad style and I realize that she must have put it on specifically because she knew I was coming. Moving to her vanity she spent a few minutes sitting there perfecting her looks though for the most part it was unneeded. I'd seen her beat up, bruised, cut, in the morning with no make up a thousand times. Getting warm by the popping fire I was not ashamed to take in the beauty of her form or her barely covered chest.

The teapot goes off and she rises to serve us. Coming to sit with me she pours the water into two crude mugs as steam curls in the air. I nod in thanks and sip at the strong leaves. It is an unusual flavor but I would expect nothing less from someone raised in the Wilds. Setting the pot and her mug off to the side she folds her muscular legs in front of her as I sit cross legged on the furs. She watches me closely and I meet her gaze as calm as I can. For a long while we regard each other and I'm not sure what it is she's trying to determine with this long intermission. I don't feel the least bit pressured to speak first and I let the tea warm my cold insides.

"I have missed you, Warden." she finally broke the silence.

"Doubt it." I say thoughtfully as I study her full lips.

"You don't believe me?"

"You've always known where I was." I rub my chin with my knuckle as I recall a hundred times I'd told myself this. "If you truly cared, you could have sought me out long ago, sent a letter. Your actions speak louder than your words, as always."

"You're still angry with me." she stated the obvious.

I sip at my tea. It really is quite good and I had not enjoyed a hot drink in weeks.

"What have you been doing?" she changed the subject.

"Do you get news?"

"Rarely."

"There was a...post Blight struggle. Something of an oddity. It took up much of the previous year. After it was over I had lengthy traveling to do as the Warden Commander. It was months before I returned to Ferelden for an extended stay and there was a great deal to do by way of rebuilding. Still is."

"I understand the Dalish were given the lands in Ostegar."

"Yes."

"You must be very proud, Warden. You have done something your people could only dream of before you." she correctly deduced. I hide my feelings on the subject. The stopping of the Blight would be my greatest achievement but a place for the Dalish would be my most precious.

"Do you visit often?" she asked.

"Not nearly as much as I'd like." I admit. "There are decades of work to do and things to build. I would rather be with them but the Wardens come first."

She sipped her tea as she studied me again. I could not fathom what it was she kept looking for so I ask, "And you? I see books piling up on your desk."

"Nothing interesting. Just some ancient history I'm delving into." she said mysteriously.

"That never ends well." I grunt.

"How is everyone?" she asked and it is my turn to make a wry half grin devoid of real mirth.

"You don't care." I reply.

"You of all people should know that I do care, even if I don't let on." she retorted with just a tinge of acidity.

I pause for a moment here. I wanted to keep this civil but that was quickly becoming an impossibility. I could not suppress my outrage forever. "I do know, all to well. I know you used me. I know you ran out of us in the hour of our most dire need. I know that whatever we had meant nothing to you and was cast aside in an instant."

"That isn't true."

"I don't believe you."

"You so mightily speak when it was you who refused me, so let us not cast dispersions one way." she snapped.

"Something you've never explained why you wanted and you would even sleep with another man to get." I say with disgust.

"To save your life you ingrate!" the sorceress lashed out. "And it would have saved Alistair's had you simply done what you did dozens of times before!"

My hand tightens around the cup so hard that I force myself to relax before I break it. Getting into a screaming match with her wasn't going to solve anything. "Alistair should be alive right now." I explain quietly. "It was supposed to be me."

Her fiery temper hit a bump and she stumbled, "Wha, what?"

I remember the moment with crystal clear precision. The fatigue in every ounce of my body from hours of fighting. Darkspawn blood mixing with my wounds and sweat until I could no longer tell the difference between them. Riding the Archdemon's leathery wing to cut it off from it's body so I could call in a world ending barrage just to weaken it long enough for the death blow. Knowing that even victory meant death.

"We brought it down and I said my goodbyes." I recall. "I told Alistair to be a good king, to do the Wardens proud in my absence. I'll never forget the look on his face. I should have known what was going to happen."

Morrigan was temporarily entranced by my story as I went on. "I took my blade in my hand, the same one sitting outside right now, and I prepared for the kill. A battering ram struck me from behind and to this day I do not remember falling. Looking up through stars I saw Alistair's face over me saying something but I could not hear. Wynne told me later the he was apologizing and said that the world needed me more than it needed him. I could only watch as he drove Maric's own sword through its cursed brain."

The witch remained captivated and I sift through the memories a for a few more seconds. "You may have hated each other but I never had a truer friend. I made the choice to refuse your ritual. Me. I was supposed to be the one to pay that toll."

Looking up at her I see her golden orbs burrowing into my soul. "I'm sorry, Warden." she said.

"Are you?" I ask bitterly.

"Truly. For all that has happened."

I sigh. I don't want to argue anymore. I just want to be somewhere else. A knot of consternation tightens in my stomach as I say, "It is over. Thank you for the tea, but I must be going now."

I get up and turn to the fire but the witch scrambles hastily to her feet behind me. "Warden!" she raged. "Did you know?"

Staring into the flickering blaze the memories of the past haunted me and the answers I had received since coming here did even more. "You did, didn't you? Coward!" she cried. "You would leave now!? Face me!"

I can't. I'm frozen where I stand. Of everything so far this I wanted to avoid the most. Logic and evidence, my trusted friends, gave me nothing but sorrow and misery to look forward to. I had to cling to the mad hope that I was wrong.

"You knew!"

"I didn't." I shake my head even though my back is to her. "I only had tenuous reports and guesses. Nothing solid."

"You lie! Even if you had no reports you knew in your flesh that it was true! Turn about and face me, damn you!" she railed angrily. I attempt to slow my pulse with controlled breathing and discipline. I'd charged darkspawn lines alone a mile under the surface in the Deep Roads with no hesitation but her I could not easily confront. Turning around I see that Morrigan is livid but also pained beyond measuring. The pit that had been growing in my stomach squeezes tighter and she gets in my tattooed face.

"What did you feel?" she quivered.

"Little." I answer honestly. "You were too far. I only knew you were sad and-"

She slaps me so hard that I lose my balance for a moment. Ears ringing I rotate my head back and the witch's hands are balled into fists. Tears were welling up in her eyes and I'd never once seen her cry in all the time we were together. The room began to vibrate at her fury and somewhere I had made a titanic miscalculation.

"Why didn't you come?" she oozed malice.

"You told me not to follow you."

"You were scared!"

"I was in the middle of a ground war. Should I have abandoned Ferelden in a post-Blight because of a feeling I didn't understand?"

"To hell with Ferelden!" she cried. "What has it ever done but bring you misery and pain?"

"Then it very closely resembles you, doesn't it!?" I raise my voice without meaning to.

Her eyes go wide. I'm expecting another slap but her crazed pupils don't ease up and remain in astonishment. "You...you...all right, Warden. You want to know what happened?"

"No, by the gods." I shake my head sadly. "With all my heart, no."

Stepping in even closer so that she was only inches away I can almost feel the waves of intensity rolling from her. When she speaks it is with the icy madness of a demon. "Your son was still born."

Her words hit me harder than her hand did moments ago. I had put the pieces together but like a child I ran from my own conclusions. I wanted desperately to believe that there was another explanation, another way it could have been. The pit in my stomach strangles my chest and I stagger towards the fire. Steadying myself on the cave wall I shrink away from her as the witch's countenance does not soften.

"You already figured it out, didn't you?" she accused. "When did you recognize it?"

Shaky on my feet I struggle to stand, let alone speak. "I...I...when I came in." I confess. "I did not see signs of a child...I thought..."

"What!? What did you think!?"

"Maybe...you had put him somewhere to be safe...or given him to an orphanage..."

"You bastard! You would not even have the courage to ask!"

"I didn't know!" I plead.

"He was beautiful!" she howled and some of her monstrous wrath turned to bottomless pain. "Tiny lips, tiny hands...ears slightly pointed like his father's..."

The cave was rumbling and it dawns on me that Morrigan could work herself into such a frenzy that she could be possessed by a Rage spirit. I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't, not after what she just told me. "_Areblas...areblas._..." was all I manage as my brain worked overtime to get over the shock and defuse the situation.

"Get out." she growled. "Get out and never come back."

"No...no." Swallowing hard as my mental machinery partitions my emotions I gather my wits and step towards her. "You have to calm down. You will weaken yourself to the point of possession."

"Get out!" she screamed and cave trembled from her frightening power. "Let them try! I will tear them apart for the joy of it! But you will go now!"

"I will not." I repeat and move closer. "I wasn't there for you then, I will not abandon you now."

"I will kill you! Take another step and-"

Sliding forward with the speed of a striking snake I lock on to her right wrist before she can react. "Let me go!" she screeched in agony. "I hate you!"

Yanking her forward I fasten my palms together around her waist and she fought to get free like a cornered wolf. "No! Stop it! Get away!" she shrieked and the furniture around the chamber started to fall down. Dragging her to the floor she struggled ferociously and managed to break my strong grip. Launching herself away with her legs I tackle her and the witch squirmed to defend herself as I pin her shoulders to the floor. Raking my back with her nails hard enough to draw blood she wailed in my ear and I have to use the weight of my whole body to restrain her upper torso.

I keep my head alongside hers as she tried to buck me off and ripped into my skin. The traumatized apostate cursed me over and over again but only succeeded in tiring herself out. The tremors slowly tapered down as she fought to escape but expended too much energy to do so. When she had to stop screaming obscenities at me to draw ragged breaths I stroked the back of her head and shushed her by the ear.

"Let me goooohooo..." she finally sobbed and her arms weakly tried to pull me off.

"It's all right, _ma vhenan_." I soothe even with burning lines carved into my back. "I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere."

She fought half heartedly for another few seconds as I lift my head up to look at her. The tears rolling down my face fell off my chin and hit her cheeks to the witch's complete bewilderment. I did not cry for Tamlen, or Duncan or Alistair or any of the friends I lost over the years but I did now and I could not stop it. Morrigan's face was a twisted mask of pain and sorrow but when she saw me something changed in her eyes.

"You mustn't break, dear one." I say as my voice nearly cracks. "Keep up your defenses. I will not allow you to be taken whilst I am here. Not after what you have already endured."

Morrigan shut her eyes and woe streamed from them. Hugging my torso to hers she buried her face in my shoulder. "He was so beautiful!" she sobbed and though grief wracked her body the anger was fading. It was likely that she had not told a single other person about what happened until now. Sliding off of her I lay on my side and pull the crying sorceress along with me. Morrigan did not resist and continued to bawl into my shoulder as we adjusted. She did not seem like the powerful apostate that everyone knew and feared at the moment, only a scarred mother who had to go through what no mother should ever have to. I did not let her go even as I struggle to comes to terms with what happened.

The witch continued to moan and I ask the Creators to guide me. They don't answer but their silence reminds me of something that I had learned long ago. I cannot think of the words in common and my heart is too heavy to even try. "_Da'len,__na melana sahlin emma ir abelas._" I sing softly. "_Souver'inan isala hamin vhenan him dor'felas..._"

Morrigan begins to quiet and pulls her head back to watch me. Her eyes are puffy, bloodshot but for the moment her decline into danger has been arrested. I do the next few lines which are always the hardest. "_In uthenera na revas, vir samahl la numin_..._vir samahl la numin, vir lath sa'vunin_..."

Her head sinks back down to my shoulder and hours pass. Her sobs grew farther and farther apart until they stopped completely. It takes me the better part of fifteen minutes to realize that she had cried herself to sleep. I dare not move a muscle as I try to wrap my head around the state of things. She'd had more than a year to cope with the shock and sorrow but it was all fresh to me. I had no idea what I was going to do next or even what the right thing to do was. Outside I could feel that the snow was falling heavily and that night was approaching. For the moment I wasn't going anywhere.

The witch stirs a couple of hours later past dusk. When she untangles herself from me I do not attempt to stop her. Rolling to my back I ease onto the tender skin and stare at the ceiling of the cave as she starts replacing everything that had fallen down. "Are you leaving soon?" she asked and she was in control again like nothing had happened.

"Not tonight." I say and she doesn't respond. Spending some time cleaning up she clears the tea and busies herself in the kitchen. I'm in no mood for food but she serves me with some of her best goods and I sit up to force nutrients down. Balancing her plate on her knees she watches me the entire time as I eat somberly. We don't speak and I'm glad of it. I would have no idea what to say anyway.

When we were done she began her end of day routine by sitting down at the vanity and removing any cosmetics. I sat facing the fire and stared through it while she took care of herself and put out the torches. The lights around faded one by one until only the main fire remained and darkness encroached on the edges of my vision. She came to sit behind me and I was startled when she began to pull my shirt up.

One hand held up the cloth and the other gently applied a cool, stinging ointment to my cuts. It hurt at first but after a few seconds the substance dulled the discomfort I felt when I moved and I knew that she was speeding along the healing process. I yawn and it occurs to me that all of my equipment was sitting in the cold just past the exit.

"I will camp outside." I declare.

"Nonsense." she disagreed. "You are my guest. You will stay in the best lodging I have."

Not wanting to argue I let her finish with the ointment and look for a spot on the furs to curl up on. The witch though was not in any mood for my self reliance.

"Come along then." she beckoned and I watch her move to the end of the loft bed.

"I will be fine here." I say.

"It gets cold down there, even next to the fire." she explained.

"I have suffered worse." I reply.

"Warden. Get in the bed." she instructed.

"_Ma nuvenin_..." I say under my breath and get up to join her at the bottom of the short ladder. My hopes for things not becoming more awkward are dashed seconds later. She lifts off her shirt right in front of me and I stare in shock for a moment before whipping myself around.

"What are you doing?" she asked as I heard her shedding her remaining clothing.

"I was not expecting that!" I blubber.

"Well I'm not going to bed smelling like mud and tears." she said flippantly. "You will not either. Strip out of those clothes already."

She climbed up into the loft and only my gentlemanly grace kept me from watching. I could not refuse her requests when my guilt was tearing me apart and I dutifully shed my garments on top of hers. Climbing up to join her I lay down a conservative distance from the witch with my back to her and settle in. Only the soft glow of the dying fire lights the cave and I am in bed with Morrigan for the first time in nearly two years. The circumstances since the last time though could not be more different.

Only a few minutes pass before her hands slide over to me. Running through my long, thick hair she pulled out the knots and separated the clumps that formed in it. This was something she loved to do for some reason though I never understood why. When she had brought the hair up to her standards she moved down my back and stopped on the many scars that dotted it.

"You have gained a few new ones." she remarked as she traced the remnants of so many injuries that I could no longer tell where most had come from.

"The life of a Warden is not an easy one."

"I fear I may have added to your tally this day."

"They're not too deep. They will disappear in time." I say with certainty.

Sliding a hand over the edge of my rib cage to the front of my torso she idly traced my stomach muscles. "Mmm. You have not grown soft resting on your laurels either."

She moves and presses her naked body against mine. I tighten up from the contact and did not see this coming. By my calculations I should have been miles away trying to sleep camped somewhere out in the snow. Morrigan is warm, soft and wrapped herself around me the way a snake does before it crushes its prey to death. My heart is beating like a dancer's drum as she moves my hair to the side and kisses the back of my neck. I shudder without meaning to and whether from anxiety or anticipation I cannot say.

"Something wrong?" she asked innocently.

"Everything." I mutter. "To be with you like this here and now...you are stronger than I."

"And you are scared as if you think I will harm you."

"You did threaten to kill me earlier today."

"Did I? I seem to can't remember..." she said roguishly. "But I do remember once being told by an elf that laying beside me was worth every hardship in his hard life."

"Really? What was his name?"

She pinches me and I smile to myself. "I meant it at the time."

"Yet you are hesitant now?"

"It has been...quite a while." is all I can muster.

"Some time since you've been with me or since you had company in your bed in general?"

I don't answer and she again kisses me on the neck. "You never removed the ring." she stated. "Have you really gone without after all this time?" Again, there is little I could say that wouldn't compromise me.

"My, my, my, Warden. I cannot imagine your willpower. Two years and here you are, unable to move. Perhaps I no longer excite you?"

"It is not a lack of desire that stays me." I whisper.

"Mmm. I suppose not."

The witch holds me tight and after a while I am extremely relieved to discover that she's breathing regularly in a shallow sleep. Finally relaxing I too allow myself to nod off as it had been a rough day. Morrigan's warmth lulls me fully into darkness in minutes.


	2. Red & White

I wake just before dawn on my own. It is still gray outside, always, but the snow had stopped falling for the moment. I know these things almost by instinct as I come to in the pitch black cave. With no light and the only sound the faintest whisper of wind coming from outside I wonder how I would extricate myself from here without causing a scene. My gear was waiting for me, my path back certain. I'd need only to gather my clothes at the end of the bed and by the door. First thing was first though, Morrigan was still holding me in a half embrace but I had managed to sneak out of her tent without waking her before. Slowly sliding my shoulder out from under her arm the witch's other hand closes over my rib cage and she digs her nails just slightly into my flush skin.

"Get out of this bed before I do and get turned into a newt." she murmured from behind me. Rapidly ascertaining that it would be a better option to stay put I attempt to doze while she sleeps. A few hours slip by before the witch decides to get up and allow me to as well. Without a care in the world she leans over to light the bed side candle with her fingertips. A tiny flame springs to life and illuminates her perfect chest which was in fact hovering over me right then. Praying to Mythal for strength the witch only smiles at my internal struggle that she had very deliberately caused.

"Breakfast then?" she asked and moved away to climb down the ladder. I bit my forefinger knuckle and thought of jumping into a cold bath before joining her.

Snapping her fingers the witch makes a mockery of the time it took me to light the torches as they all burst into brilliance at once. Without the fire going the cave had grown cold during the course of the night and though it was well lit goosebumps prickled my skin as I reach the floor. Morrigan had put on a silken, black robe that left little to the imagination but it was better than the alternative. Sitting at her vanity the witch watched me dress with great interest. I refuse to feel self conscious and inspect the back of my shirt with care. She'd torn a few holes in it and I clucked my tongue at the damage. When I pull my clothes on she loses interest and moved to the kitchen.

Ladling out a pot's worth of drinking water from a barrel in the kitchen she mixed it together with dry oats and seasoning. Beginning the gruel she set a small fire to boil it and returned to her vanity to primp herself. This ever amused me and I sat down on the gradually warming floor to watch. She does through a practiced routine of fixing her hair, adding seductive make up and touching traces of perfume to herself. The mirror I gave her years ago is still her main tool and more than a few times she glances at me from its reflective surface.

When she was finished she served the gruel with a few slices of precious butter and dried meat. We sit on the floor with our bowls and plates as the fire gets going. I am struck by how familiar this setting is though it had been long since we lived it.

"I've decided." she announced.

"On what?"

"The task you will do."

"Were we in the middle of a conversation I don't remember...?" I raise an eyebrow.

"You will provide me with a well stocked larder." she went on as if I hadn't spoken at all. "Enough for...two months."

"Two months..." I gawk.

"It is a nuisance hunting in this dreary winter." she explained. "I must fly for miles to find something to eat and have to feed as a beast if the kill is too large. Then there's the walking, endless walking. 'Tis tiresome."

"A rather unexpected request." I remark.

"We have helped virtual strangers do far harder tasks for little to no reward." she pointed out.

"True, true. It could take weeks though if the trails go cold."

"Then you had best get started, Warden." she nodded once.

"If this is a ploy to get me to stay, I can't." I say firmly. "There is too much to lord over in Ferelden for me to abandon."

"I have no illusions of your permanence. You may of course refuse if you wish." she held up her hands.

"And if I do?"

"I would be disappointed but your will is your own." she said with her patented, lofty sense of non-chalance that almost lured you into thinking she really didn't mind.

"Don't be silly, woman. Of course I will."

"Ah, guilt. A most useful ally." she said smugly.

"It is not guilt that made me say yes." I clarify.

"Oh? Why then?"

"Because you asked me." I shrug.

"Hmm...yes, you do have a pattern of doing dangerous things simply because I ask. I wonder what else I could have you accomplish by merely asking?"

"Almost anything."

"Almost." she agreed. "Eat up then. You have a long day ahead."

Finishing breakfast I mentally readied for a day of scouting and planned exactly where I'd be going. Bundling myself up the witch lounged in her robe indifferently. "Aren't you coming?" I ask.

"Me? Heavens no. I shall be sitting here comfortably by the fire as you toil out in the snow."

"Of course you will." I sigh.

Heading out of the door flaps I stop to gather my equipment. The heavy camping pack I can at least leave behind but I would need nearly everything else to be prepared. I kept a light, thin sack for exactly this kind of activity that would be indispensable for gathering. The wounds on my back split open in a couple of places as I move but have otherwise almost completely healed overnight. Climbing down the left side I circle for a mile around Morrigan's home taking note of land marks. The sky is veiled from me but I am as at home in the evergreens that dominated the landscape as I am in the divine oaks of the Brecilian Forest. I discover some tracks as well – not enough to be confident that I will be on my way soon but enough to be hopeful.

I don't bother following any of them but head into the thick trees to the north which are always hidden treasure troves of good eating. Not one to return empty handed I load up on patches of edible mushrooms growing at the bases of the trees. One must avoid parasol or hat shaped ones that are often poisonous and seek out flatter, rounder fungus. These ones were growing well in large clumps and I knew them well. Taking around three pounds and leaving the rest I continue until coming across a patch of snow laden nettle. Brushing off and harvesting entire bushes I am sure to thank the gods for providing even in the dead of winter.

Moving along I keep my keen eyes peeled for anything else growing and my vigilance is rewarded in the form of wild rose hips around thirty minutes of walking later. They make for an excellent tea when properly deseeded and I drop a couple of handfuls into the sack along with everything else. It is beginning to fill nicely and even without bagging any game I would have considered this a success so far.

Heading roughly north for almost an hour the ground changes and the hardy evergreens give way to a slightly different kind of timber. I am amazed to discover a small copse of apple trees that still had fruit hanging from them. Setting down my gear and spoils I take only my longsword as I drag myself up the icy bark. Using my Dar'Misaan as a chopping axe I cut down the smaller branches completely and vigorously shake the rest down. It's tedious, slightly dangerous work that makes my fingers go numb but after a couple of careful hours I have so many apples that I can barely fit them in among the rest of the loot.

Stopping to eat a sparse meal of mushroom and the tart, frozen fruit I make haste to press on while I still have time. I am nearly at the end of my maximum distance before needing to turn back for nightfall when I find a medium sized lake frozen over from the low temperatures. Circumnavigating it I see enough activity on its banks to know that I will return here first thing in the morning.

Walking back I have much time to contemplate what had happened yesterday. If that wasn't enough to think on there was also the matter of the witch herself. What exactly would I do with her? How should I move forward from here on out? Do I do this one last kindness for her and then remove her from my life entirely? The fate of our son weighed heavily upon my shoulders, much heavier than I thought it would. My gut told me to cut my losses and go but I could not. The years in between had done little to temper the passion I privately harbored for the witch. I plead with the Creators to give me signs out here in their holy ground at what I should do.

The sun is beginning to set behind the clouds by the time Morrigan's cliff comes into view. Hauling my goods up the mountainside to the cave I shed my equipment before going inside with my full bag. A very welcome food aroma permeates the chamber and I shake off excess snow as I warm up. The witch is sitting at her desk still in the same robe she was wearing this morning. Watching me unloading my pack with limited concern I expertly bind the nettle together for future use. Searching for containers I pour the apples into a large pot that barely contains them. Finally the rose hips I have to tip the bag upside down to empty into a cup.

"Bravo, Warden." she clapped unenthusiastically. "But I see no game in your nimble hands."

"Just a foray. I will do better tomorrow." I promise.

"Perhaps. Come, eat."

She rises to serve a thick stew with a meat I can't readily identify. I am unable to keep myself from having a second helping and for some reason Morrigan refuses to let me serve myself. It takes only a short time for the cave to warm my frigid bones and it conspires with the meal to make me drowsy. I won't sleep as long as she's up though and while she turns to her reading I stretch out on the furs below. Normally at this time I'd writing in my journal but I had chosen to leave it behind on this trip. My thoughts drift to New Arlathan and the rebuilding of an elven kingdom. There is so much to do that I often fantasize about quitting the Wardens altogether if such a thing were possible. No matter. They would be strong on their own without me.

Morrigan finally gets up to begin snuffing candles and I take the hint. Pilings furs on top of myself I listen as she climbs into the bed and leaves only the loft's candle lit. Sticking her head over the ledge of the bed she said, "Come along then Warden. Don't make me wait."

I sigh and start to wriggle out of my clothes. She dampens the candle and only the popping fire is left to light the cave. Climbing up to join her I don't bother trying to stay separate; she'd only pull me close anyway. Laying on the side with my back to her again she runs her fingers through my hair and fixes it as before. Pressing herself against me she hugs my waist and I am so relaxed by it that I nearly drift off right there.

"This is good, isn't it?" she whispered and woke me up a little.

"Mmmhmmm..." I mumble.

She kisses me behind the ear and my eyes flutter open. Sliding her right hand on top of mine she picks it up and places it on her bare hip. I run my fingers along her smooth, muscular leg down to her knee the way she wants me to and return my hand my own space. Morrigan is making things difficult for me without meaning to but she thankfully does not instigate any more tomfoolery. With her body on mine I am asleep in minutes.

* * *

Waking at dawn the next day I am free to make my own breakfast while the witch sleeps in. Snow is falling outside to my delight and I thank the gods for lowering visibility on a hunting day. Preparing to return to the pond as soon as possible I weigh myself down slightly more than yesterday. Taking the place of my camping pack I bring with me a tightly bound net for dragging large prey and a heavy fur which I rolled into a bundle and placed behind my neck under my white overcoat. I'd seen large herbivore tracks in the area and sometimes proper hunting necessitated long waits in the cold.

Ignoring any foraging opportunities and keeping a brisk pace I make good time to reach the pond well before noon. It was a perfect spot for trapping had I the tools but vigilance would have to do. Setting up in the low hanging branches of a stout pine I wait for a few hours as I see various animals amble by to make use of the pond. Silent as a stone I sweep down to the earth and ghost along the snow in slow motion. I draw and release on a fox and a beaver that came out of the underbrush around the water. Returning to my lookout post I do a quick dressing of each and thank them for their help before I store them hanging upside down off the ground.

Keeping my lookout for a couple more hours I'm in the middle of an apple lunch when I spot something at the edge of the pond just barely inside my vision. Peering through the falling powder I make out the outline of a large stag at the far end from me. It would have enough meat for at least a month by itself and I quickly make my way down towards it.

Cutting my personal identification mark into the base of the pine I stay in the trees around the lake as I work my way to the animal. It is not easy, even for a seasoned hunter, to get close enough to an adult deer to take a good shot. Their senses are sharp, reflexes keen and speed nearly unmatched. It is best to waylay them as they return from feeding but that requires a bit of planning to make happen. He is gone by the time I make to where he was but I study his deep imprints in the snow. He's gone north but the tracks came from the south east. These are the ones I follow and I keep my shoe imprints as far away from his as possible.

Fifteen minutes later I am led to a thick spot of bushes and I know that I've found his hiding spot. Deer as large as my prey get that big by feeding at night and staying hidden during the day. If this one returned here after some risky snacking he would find me waiting for him. Some twenty feet away from the winter foliage is a rocky hill that rises about seven feet which should be a perfect ambush spot.

The time of day is not lost on me and if I choose to remain here I would not have enough daylight to make it back before dark. The reward is worth the risk and there was still a chance that he might return here before making his night run. Laying down my bow and taking a few arrows out I compact the snow under me. Taking out the fur I'd brought along I unroll it on the ground and lay on top. With my arms crossed in front of me I lay my head down on them and am fairly warm as I wait. The gentle snow begins to settle on me and help break up my outline as the minutes tick by.

Hours pass and nothing happens in my field of vision. I'd grown cold waiting there but moving would disturb the light layer of frozen white camouflage. Stubbornly remaining until the sky begins to darken I know that it is time to give up for the night. Rising I gather my equipment and shake out the fur before studying the area. Behind my position a chain of high hills began and I investigate them for a place to shack up.

It takes around half an hour in waning light to find a fissure cracked into a boulder the size of a cottage some 300 feet from the deer's resting spot. Splitting the great rock almost in half it was still joined at the top and thus formed a small area to wedge myself in free of snow. Barely wide enough for my hips and torso it was a snug, uncomfortable fit but better than nothing. Wrapping myself up in the spare skin and drawing my arms into my coat I lean against the rock as night fully descends on the white landscape.

Forty five minutes or so past sun down I am forced to get one arm out and draw my Dar'Misaan. Igniting the weapon I hold it away from me and it warms my frigid extremities after a few minutes of burning. When sensation returns to my fingers and toes I reluctantly put it out. Perhaps I will get lucky and the light will attract the attention of some wandering predators for me to make an extra blanket out of.

There is little sound and no visual stimuli out here in the desolate, glacial country side. There is not constant light like in the city and I could likely hear an animal approach for a hundred paces in any direction. It would be peaceful if it wasn't so cold but I attempt to sleep anyway. It is much like every other night so far on this journey that I did not spend in the glowing hospitality of Morrigan's bed if a little more unpleasant than usual. A double tent set up trapped much more warmth than what I had now but the feeling was similar. It's cramped and unforgiving here but I eventually manage to doze.

The plummeting temperatures wake me several times throughout the night and I turn on my blade furnace until I am warm enough to stave off freezing to death. I couldn't have been asleep for more than an hour or two at a time and I know that I've gotten too cold when I start shivering under the many layers of cloth that were keeping me insulated. It is a fitful, unpleasant way to rest but after a few cycles of sleeping, waking, warming and sleeping again dawn approaches.

I get up as the sky lightens behind the ever present clouds to stretch with my Dar'Misaan torch in my hand. My limbs are stiff and angry at me from the last ten hours or so as I return flexibility to them. Jogging in place and waving my arms ridiculously I'm glad I'm alone as I get blood pumping through my body again. Working myself up to a light sweat under my many layers I prepare to move the moment I can see more than 30 feet into the murky landscape.

Creeping back to the look out spot from the day before I settle in again to wait for what possibly might have been nothing at all. Spreading out, even on the cold snow, felt good after being cramped together all night. My thoughts strayed from survival as I waited and I envision the conversation I would have with Morrigan when I got back. I'd imagine there'd be little outward concern but sooner or later she would work around to asking where I was.

Dawn gives way to morning and I begin to let the thought cross my mind that I may be laying here for nothing after all. Another hour passes and I have at least the two kills from the previous day waiting for me back at the pond if – when – I return empty handed. A flicker of movement catches my eye from the trees below and I squint in the gray light to make it out. A shadowy form slunk through the underbrush and my heart beats a little faster at the sight. It takes a few minutes to but the the stag makes his way back to the cluster of bushes near me. Coming back from a long night of combing the land for edible grazing he circles his base camp and his image sharpens as the light increases. Some ten minutes pass before he mercifully decides to lay down and I begin to move with reptilian composure.

Well hidden in the brush his large antlers give away his head's position and I plan accordingly. He is laying down facing away from me but not at enough of an angle for a good quartering shot. It takes me a full minute to ready an arrow and another to aim my trusted weapon, Falon'Din's Reach, his way. Using only my legs I raise myself up to one knee and wince as I pull back on the longbow's drawstring.

A bit of snow slides off of me and makes the smallest sound when it hits the ground. The antlers snap to one side and I throw caution to the wind to draw all the way back on the bow. He jumps up and I fire blind at where his midsection should be. I hear a yelp and abandon the heavy weapon to charge down the hill with a dragon bone Dar'misu in my hand. He's moving to my chagrin and I give chase through the trees. Leaving a blood trail the stag outpaces me for about a hundred feet before I see him slowing up ahead. Dodging past the many evergreens in a blur of white, brown and green I come upon him hobbling forward but not fast enough to save his life.

My arrow had struck him through the left thigh and it was a miracle he'd made it that far. He tries to kick with his good leg as I rush him but I vault onto his back to avoid what could be a serious injury. Locking an arm around his thrashing neck I ram the long dagger just behind his right fore leg between the ribs. One uses a nearly identical stab to end a man's life and the great beast collapses as my dagger sinks to the hilt in his chest. I hang on while he spasms and I whisper soothing sounds into his ear as he passes.

Taking the blade out I clean it with readily available powder and pant in the chill morning air. When I get my breath back I kneel down in the snow before the body and clasp my hands together. I thank Andruil for her guidance and favor for me taking this prey. I thank the animal himself for providing for me and my clan in the near future. I commend his bravery and cunning but acknowledge that I was better on this day.

Returning to my ambush site I gather my equipment and walk to drop it off next to the waiting body. Removing my gloves I fumble for my butchering knife. Field dressing is a messy but necessary process as the body must be prepared as soon as possible for optimal results. Fortunately I had done it so many times that it was close to second nature. Leaving the skin on I cut open the torso to clean out the viscera but am careful to save nutrient rich organs like the liver and heart. Once it was safely free of offal and rapidly cooling I unbound the net I had brought along and laid it out on the snow. Dragging the carcass on top of the sturdy twine I fasten the ends of the net to my chest. Beginning the long journey back I drag the body along in the snow and it is actually easier to do now than on rough summer ground or in the deep forest.

The buck's a heavy one and it takes me nearly five hours to haul him back to Morrigan's home. The witch is waiting for me in her winter furs at the bottom of her mountain and I'm exhausted when I finally arrive.

"Sleep well?" she asked pleasantly. I stop to relax a hundred muscles that promise me a day of soreness for my abuse.

"Right this way." she gestured towards the mountain. "My butchery is on the ground floor."

Grumbling in Elvish I follow her another excruciating couple of hundred feet to an alcove far below and to the right of her home. Here she had hidden with a patchwork of black furs a natural alcove in the sheer cliff. There was a small space for a preparation table, tools, buckets and a roasting pit. Hauling the buck up onto the table I breath a weary sigh of relief that for the moment my struggles are over.

"I must say Warden, you have outdone yourself." she approved as I lean on the table for a breather.

"Eh." I grunt and search for the butcher's gloves.

"I will do the rest. Go up and get warm." she ordered and I was too grateful to argue. Leaving her to her work I didn't even care enough to ask her how she knew I was coming without the ring on. There's stew going when I reach the cave and I throw my clothes off in a frenzy to get at it. Huddling by the fire I go through three bowls by the time Morrigan comes in. It's only been a couple of hours and if she had completely finished with the deer already I will be impressed. Feeling well thawed and content I don't want to go but there's still plenty of daylight to burn. As she cleans herself up I being gearing for another trip.

"Where are you going?" she asked, puzzled.

"Out?" I say as I pull my overcoat on.

"You just got back."

"And I've still got work to do."

"In such a hurry to do your task and be gone?"

I stop dressing for a moment to regard her. "That's not how it is. Nothing would please me more than to remain here with you indefinitely. But I have responsibilities waiting for me."

She eyed me suspiciously but said, "You're pushing too hard. Know your limits, Warden. Even you have them."

"I know my limits well." I reply confidently. "And I've not yet begun to approach them."

Outside I circle west with a full stomach and a worn but rested body. Scouting landmarks in preparation for the following day I come across a thin stream iced over at the edges but running clear in the center. My calloused hands endured much in the last few weeks and I would have to further maltreat them. My keeper always told me that water provides life in many meanings and it was always an excellent source for food even in the winter.

Following the stream to where it slowed into a deeper pool with a light flow I peer into the water and took off my gloves. Sticking my hand into the shockingly frigid water I scavenge for one, two, four and six total freshwater mussels the size of my fist. Throwing them into my food sack I held my hand over my Dar'Misaan for several minutes so my fingers didn't turn black and fall off.

Continuing upstream I spot more mussels but leave them for another day. I ran into a patch of cat tails poking out of the snow and with my other hand I dug down near their muddy, underwater roots and yanked entire plants out. Shearing the roots from the stems I warm up my hand before judging the time. Going back now would leave an hour and a half or so of daylight unused but I had thoroughly taxed my body already. Reversing direction I wearily make my way to the cave.

Morrigan is not in when I return and I prepare the haul for long term keeping. Wrapping the shoots together and setting them with my growing pile of edible plant matter I next meticulously scrub the mussels down with drinking water. Lighting a small fire on the stove I pry them open before putting them in a pot to boil and then relax as I chew on some of the stored nettle. They were still halfway from fully opening when the witch returned to find me lounging by the fire with a cup of tea my hand. I toast her with the mug and she discarded her heavy furs before tending to the mussels herself.

"I must admit, you are better at this than I." she complimented as she prodded the large shellfish.

"Is that a surprise?" I puff myself up in good nature.

"Yes. Whilst on the road we bought our goods along the way to and fro. I'd not yet seen you depending on only yourself for sustenance. Out here, in a place you've never been before during winter, you thrive. Your survival skills are superlative."

"I've been doing this my whole life." I point out.

"As have I. Hence my surprise."

"That's probably what drew me to you in the first place." I muse.

"What?"

"Your feral nature. Your self reliance. Your ability to skin a carcass. That noise you make when you are pleased to kill something."

"And you, the savage Dalish barely civilized enough to accept living amongst us humans. How could I resist?" she smiled.

"Heh."

"However, I still don't care to be second best to someone who cannot even shape shift." she griped.

"You know what they say about an elf with a bow, don't you?"

"No...what do they say?"

"I'm not sure, I was hoping that you would fill in the blank."

She laughed, just a short chortle but it had a music to it that I had not heard since arriving. She notices me noticing her but her mirth doesn't fade. "You look tired, Warden. We will bed early tonight, soon."

I have no objections and she makes good on her word shortly thereafter. I don't resist when she puts out torches and I don't care enough to look away when she disrobes. I am nearly right behind her when she gets into the loft and I blow out the last candle myself when I get under the blankets. She's probably dying to get at my hair but I'm far too drained to be kept awake by such nonsense. Getting it over with early I am the one to tangle us together and I don't even mind that her splendid chest is against mine. She might have been stroking my temple or face but I am asleep so quickly that I may have only been dreaming of it.


	3. Traps & Snares

When I wake the next morning I know immediately that I've overslept. It's well past dawn and snow is falling outside while I am alone in bed. The chamber is lit and I realize that for the first time Morrigan woke before me. Climbing down I sit in the middle of the room to start stretching out the soreness from the previous day. The witch had been reading but lowered the book in her hands to observe me. She is happy to watch what I'm doing and I ignore the attention while I twist, pull and roll out my muscle groups. When I get dressed she loses interest and returns to her book while I make porridge for myself. Hardly waiting for the meal to cool before I wolf it down I suit up and stop by her study where she barely seems to notice me.

"I'll be back." I say as I quickly memorize everything I see looking down at her.

"Good hunting." she replied without raising her head.

Smirking to myself I exit the cave and head west again to hook back up with the stream. My numb fingers yield four more mussels and I bypass more cat tails but mark their location down in my memory. Wandering upstream for a few hours I duck down when I spot something moving through the brush. Still and white as the powdered covered trees around me I let my prey show itself. Nocking an arrow I wait patiently as a flock of wild turkeys come streaming through the trees about thirty feet ahead of me. They move almost silently except for a few squawking noises and I am at enough of a distance that they likely won't consider me a threat even if spotted.

Creeping forward so I don't spook them into taking flight I see a large, magnificent male come bobbing into view. Arcing my bow and leading him just a little I release as he plods along without a care in the world. The arrow sings through the air and he only reacts for a second before it takes him in a puff of feathers. The flock scatters into the white sky and he's still suffering when I rush through the drifts to get upon him. My Dar'Misu speedily eases his pain and as before I thank him for his contribution to my well being. Praising Andruil for showing me great favor over the last few days I dress and tie him to my back before continuing. The stream burbles and babbles to itself as the gods gently dust the area anew with immaculate snow and in this moment I am at peace.

Somewhere around hour five of following the winding path of the water I am forced to think about turning around lest I spend the night out in the open again. Finding a fallen tree in a small clearing next to the brook to rest on I set down my turkey to have a fairly gluttonous lunch. I've brought a couple pounds of mushroom, three apples and a pound of roasted, dried venison. It's a little chewy – my own fault for spooking the beast as its stress level at the moment of death affected the quality of the meat – but the comforting taste made me feel right at home even with the sky falling around me.

A small, dark object comes scuttling into my vision at the corner of the clearing some twenty feet away. Behind it a full grown lynx bursts from the trees and jumps with all of its shaggy paws onto the hapless creature. It bites down and I hear a tiny squeak before they are still. Her silvery-brown fur is feathery, long and majestic which puts my rags to shame. Needle like, predatory eyes underneath black tufted ears give the large feline a distinct appearance that might have been adorable had they not belonged to a feral hunter. The cat busies herself with eating before she notices me and almost looks surprised when she does. Saluting her with a piece of venison I say, "_Nehn, da'falon adahlenaan._ Good catch."

The lynx keeps me under watch but returns to her meal. We eat together and I am struck by this good omen as I consume everything I'd brought with me. The winter cold had a habit of making the appetite work harder and I pop the last bit of venison into my mouth before returning the way I came.

It is dusk when I make it back as my timing is a little off. Entering the butchery I defeather the turkey as swiftly as I can and prep him for hanging. It is almost fully dark when I exit the alcove and it compels me to use my longsword as a torch to light the way. Climbing up the cold rocks to get into the warm chamber Morrigan is blissfully reading and sipping tea when I enter. Ambling over to her I present myself and peek down at her book.

"Back." I announce.

"Yes, yes, I see you." she dismissed. Grinning wide to myself I go to the stove and prepared a heavy dinner for myself. When I had eaten my fill I headed straight to bed and forced the witch to play catch up. Taking down the flames until the room was almost as dark as the night outside she joined me and even without seeing her I knew she was delighted to tend to my hair.

"You've been quiet today." I observe with a self satisfied smirk she cannot see.

"Hmm, not so different after all." she noted. "Such a high value on words."

"Just something I noticed." I yawn while she tugs on the clumps.

"Is there a topic you wish to speak of?"

"No, no. Just keep doing what you're doing. I'll be out soon."

I wake at dawn and was pleased to sense that it was not snowing at that moment. While it was still overcast I would need the good visibility today and thanked whichever god responsible. Morrigan is still asleep and I slip out from under her in total darkness. I'm familiar enough now with the layout that I can feel around for my clothes and get dressed even when I can't see my hand in front of my face. Tapping my foot to get to the kitchen I reach into the larder and feel around for a cold breakfast. Chewing on shoots and venison right there in front of the cabinet I gather enough for a meal on the road and tap my way to the entrance. It takes a couple of tries to successfully identify each article of clothing and I put my overcoat on backwards before getting it right. Loading up my gear was much faster to do by touch and I'm on my way into the gradually lightening landscape in moments.

There was a decent sized, fallen log about two miles up the banks of the stream that would be my first destination this morning. Leaving my hood off I am careful to angle my face so that I can keep Morrigan's cave in view as I go. Sure enough at about three hundred feet away I see a black dot emerge from the cliff and take flight. Confidently I went west as my plan bounced around in my head impatiently.

I reach the log in a little over forty minutes. Setting my equipment down I look up and see enough sky to judge this a good place. Checking if I can move the log I find it heavy but within my ability to manipulate. Giving it a minute I then lift up the log as high as I can on one end before I drop it down.

The remnant of the tree crashes to the ground and I thrust my arm as far as I can under it while hollering like a darkspawn. My hand is hidden down in the snow but quite unharmed and I make a show of trying to tug it free. Loudly I start swearing with every Elvish curse I know and scorn the gods for my bad luck. I call the log enough insults to incite a clan war and throw in a few yelps for good measure.

It doesn't take long for a white wolf to come bounding into the area and stop in front of me. Seeing her yellow eyes I say, "_Ma sarannas, Falon'din_! Quickly, I'm trapped!"

The wolf seemed to hesitate and I indignantly berate, "What are you waiting for? Get your human hands down here and help me!"

A flash and shimmering explosion produce the witch in her true form but she is not in her outer wear. Still in the flimsy black robe she doesn't even have shoes on but is supremely amused at my antics.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? The mighty Hero of Ferelden, beaten by a log." she positively gloated.

"Very funny." I grimace. "I was trying to get under it."

"What your enemies would give to be where I am now." she relished the moment. "Imagine what promises I could exact from you at fortuitous juncture."

"Not many." I grin and bring my arm out from under the log. Holding it up I add, "Feels fine, actually."

I walk up to a dumb founded Morrigan who is furiously thinking to figure out what just happened. "Might I ask what you were doing out here, so close to my position that you heard my shouting?"

"I..." she started to trail off.

"Must have been blind luck, yes?"

Her eyes narrow on me when she puts together that she'd been tricked. "How did you know?"

"Your book." I explain as I take off my overcoat and drape it over her silken shoulders. If she was cold the witch did not show it. "You were on the same page when I left in the morning as when I returned at night. Surely you are not that slow of a reader. Then other things made sense; your timely cooking, your lack of concern when I did not return for the night. I must admit, I am a little flattered you have been following me out every day."

Stone faced at first a slow smile crept over her and she looked down at the ground while moving her tongue around in her mouth. "You are entirely too clever, Warden. It will be your undoing one day."

"Not today." I beam. "Why were you tailing me?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

She shifted under the coat and drew it a little tighter around her. "Is it so hard to believe that I have been bereft of your presence too long?"

"No, but why the secrecy?"

"Perhaps I did not want you to know I was watching." she said cryptically.

"Yes but to what end, you maddening woman?"

"I had questions that needed answering." she shrugged.

"Had you been wondering what life would have been like had you not run from me?"

"...perhaps." she grudgingly admitted.

"Aha! I knew it!" I celebrate triumphantly. "And was I found lacking?"

"No Warden, but that was not the only question I sought an answer to."

"Oh aye? What was another, then?"

She took a couple of steps in the cold snow towards me so that she was mere inches away. Looking into my eyes with a sly playfulness she said, "You would have made an excellent father."

My jaw falls open and I hurriedly look down at the ground. What was I supposed to say to that? A myriad of responses swirl in my head and the witch hugs me to her. It's slightly embarrassing that when we stand to do this since my face only comes up to her shoulder but thank the gods no one else is around. I'm struggling to find words as she lets me go to lift my chin up to face her. Those normally fierce or sarcastic eyes were tender and shining as if she found comfort in my astonishment.

Unable to match her stare I avert mine and ask, "Where is he?"

"Three days north of here as the crow flies. There is a small village that assisted me. He is on a ridge overlooking town. I can draw you a map."

"No." I shake my head. "That's all I need."

She doesn't let me go as thoughts jumble around in my skull. "What will you do there?" she asked after giving me some time to think.

"I will tell him who I am." I speculate. "Tell him about you and I. Ask Falon'din to guide him in the next world and plant a sapling over him that I might visit it in the years ahead before the great god comes for me as well."

"I already did." she revealed and I did not understand at first.

"Already did what?"

"Plant the tree."

I have to search my memory for the instance of when I told her about my people's custom. I could only recall talking about that with Alistair but no matter. "_Ma serannas, ma vhenan._ I did not think that you would do this. I am humbled by your care."

Breaking our embrace she looked up at the gray skies. "You may repay it by keeping true to your promise. If you can tear yourself from your love, Ferelden, long enough to make the trips that is." she said with just a touch of scorn.

I sadly lift one corner of my mouth up. "If anything Ferelden is a frightful mistress."

"Oh? Fooled me." she said unhappily.

Squaring up with her I say, "I loved you long before I ever began to care about Ferelden."

It was the witch's turn to shy away but I was locked onto her. When she looked back at me I add very purposefully, "And I still do."

Her expression shifted gradually from slightly unsure to resolute. When she spoke again she was deadly serious. "You had best be careful with your words, Warden."

"I never am when you're around."

"What did you tell me? Actions speak louder than words?"

"What do my actions say about my time here?" I challenge.

"I thought you would help me merely because I ask it?"

I spread my hands out before me. "Can it not be both?"

"And when you first entered my home only to leave, and would have kept walking had I not stopped you...were your words true then?"

"Yes." I nod without hesitation.

"How can that be so?" she demanded.

"I know not why you ran from me. I knew not why you were sad or even if you would meet with me. You chose to avoid contact and though it made my heart heavy I accepted this. Had you not stopped me I would left you alone forever...because that would be your wish and I am a slave to it."

She turned away from me to show the back of my own overcoat. I look up at the gray sky but the still, lazy clouds have no guidance to offer. I wonder if I have said too much or said it incorrectly. It was impossible to tell how the witch would react to honesty and the years in between our last conversations hadn't changed that.

She shivers and this is the first sign I've seen that she was at all affected by the cold. Gently and slowly I put my hands on her fur covered shoulders and rub her arms up and down. "Go on home, my light in the darkness. Wait for me there. I yet have work to be done. One day I-"

She spun and pounced on me with such speed and ferocity that I thought I was being attacked at first. Her powerful, Wilder woman legs pinned me back onto the snow and she gripped my collar like it was the only thing keeping her tied to the ground. Madly, urgently kissing me I could barely think as she pressed her mouth down on mine. Clutching at her I let go my reservations for the moment and kissed back until I needed air.

Very reluctantly she let me go and I gasp under her. The snow was making my back cold without my overcoat while she was heating my up my front half entirely too well. Her heavy breath puffed out in my face and I smile wide. "Hardly the proper place for such things." I point out.

Dismounting the witch allows me to climb to my feet. Handing me back my coat she said, "This is not over." and burst into light as she turned to a hawk before me. Flapping up and out of sight in seconds I watch her leave before I sigh and look down. Stooping to collect a fist full of snow I pull my pants open and drop the ice ball down the inside of my under cloth.

"Hhnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggg!" I clench my teeth until the ice melts. The sensation is breath taking and not in a good way. Drawing in some deep breaths I gather my things and change direction as I spend another day in the white.

* * *

When I return to the cave before dusk it is lit only by the fireplace. My catches for the day, the fox and beaver I had left near the pond, were safely hanging in the butchering alcove below and I did not find anything else worth hauling back. Morrigan is nowhere in sight but there is plenty of illumination to see and I begin my daily routine of getting ready for sleep.

There is a plate waiting at the edge of the hearth and I appreciatively take it. Steamed shoots and leaves, remoisturized mushrooms and well seasoned venison was becoming a familiar dinner but the witch had made it considerably more enjoyable than when I normally ate everything raw. I eat ravenously as I often do; ransacking the countryside for sustenance worked up quite the appetite and hunger was a garnish in a class of its own.

I know the witch is about but she chooses not to reveal herself. No matter, it simply gave me time to further reinforce my resolve. What happened earlier today was a mistake and it was going to be difficult rectifying it. I ponder this as I get through half of my meal and suddenly my serenity is disturbed by the feeling of another presence in the room. Looking behind me I see her sitting backwards on the lone chair in her shadowy study. Resting her arms on the back of home made seat like she'd been there for hours with her chin on top of where her wrists crossed she gazed at me without expression. The only clues I had that she was even alive were her rare blinks and the fire's light reflecting in her pupils.

Resuming my meal I lick the plate clean and towel my hands off on a dining cloth. Turning back to say something I found that the witch was now only several feet away reclining on the furs near my feet. I jump at the sight involuntarily and curse, "_Elgar'non_..." in a low voice. She knows I hate it when she does that.

"Come, lay with me, Warden." she beckons and I notice that her papery robe is slightly parted. Lounging on her side with an elbow delicately propping her head up she looks like a painting waiting for me like this. Crawling down I lay on my back near her and she inches over until her elbow is touching my shoulder. I relax and clear my mind which is not easy to do with her scrutinizing me from this close.

"You are always tired when you get back yet you never intentionally sleep in." she began.

"_Vir Bor'assan_, the Way of the Bow: As the sapling bends, so must you. In yielding, find resilience. In pliancy, find strength." I recite.

"Hmm. That relates to what I said how?"

"Bend, but do not break." I translate.

"Ah. I can see where that applies to you. Much bending you have done of late." Closing my eyes I inhale through my nose and exhale out of my mouth. I wonder if I can fall asleep fast enough to avoid what I'm certain is coming.

"What are you afraid of, Warden?" she asked unexpectedly. I open my eyes to furrow my brow at her.

"Afraid of?"

"What is it that scares you?" she asked in a different way.

"Nothing in this world." I answer. "The gods themselves would have to engage me."

"Even if Falon'din comes for you?" she queried with a surprising grasp on things I'd told her about years ago.

"No one escapes him. I am nothing but a man but if I had to I'd face Falon'din and die with my Dar'Misaan in my hand."

"So the gods and a witch of the Wilds are it?" she reviewed.

"You don't scare me, Morrigan." I assure her.

"Yes...I do. You feared me but still you came here. You feared the answers I might give but still you sought them out. You reek of fear every night but you're not a coward, Warden. What is it that frightens you?"

I didn't know how she picked up on what I had been trying to hide for the last week but my own motivations and reasons were not a mystery to me. I had been content to let it flit poisonously in the back of my mind only to surface when we were near each other but I did not want to think about it, much less talk about it.

"Do you not know?" she asked.

"I know." I sadly reply. "I simply do not wish to discuss it."

"You may be at ease. Your secrets are known to me." she declared. I am startled by her words but can't believe that I would have given something like that away.

"What..."

"Do not think you have a monopoly on clever." she smirked insolently. "I have known you in many senses. Your...needs I well remember. They are strong, stronger when you are close to me."

"..."

"Oh, one could explain it as the long separation, your anger at me, perhaps you spent time with 'that girl' after all. But then you admitted there had been no one else. The Warden I knew would have been positively bursting by now..."

I could not say anything in my defense and had to hope that she had drawn an incorrect conclusion. "I will admit, it took me a couple of days to work it out but by the third night I was sure." she went on.

There was a lump in my throat as I try to remain unconcerned. "What, pray tell, is this you have deduced?"

She waited until I met her stare to answer. The light of fire danced in her pitiless orbs and she said, "You are terrified of laying with me because you blame yourself for our stillborn son."

My lungs deflate and the breath inside them flew out on its own. I could never have imagined that one word could carry so much pain. I put my hands in my face so she does not see me like this. It _was_ my fault. Stress, malnutrition, the general health of the mother, her mental state, all of these things could have contributed to what happened. I should have chased her down right away, forced her to stay at home with a minimal amount of movement, provided everything she would need. This could have been avoided and I could have...had...something to care for other than a sapling out in the mountains.

"You blame yourself for not being there. And for not coming sooner." she read my mind. Looking at her through my fingers she is composed, emotionless and I know not if she is forcing herself to bring up these hard truths or if she enjoys my suffering.

"Do you not also blame me for not coming sooner?" I nearly falter.

"Perhaps once. Seeing you now, I know that I was the one who brought it upon myself. You would have come given half the chance but still your guilt remains as if you could have done something about it."

"I could have...I should have. Torment me no longer with this conversation." I beg. "I cannot bear to discuss it any longer."

"Not until you are free of this self loathing."

"Tch!" I exhale forcibly at the thought. "And how would I go about doing that?"

The witch smiled and closed a hand on top of mine. "That is the easy part."

"No," I shake my head, "I cannot. The risk is too great."

"A risk I bear, Warden. We both knew well what may have come about from your enthusiasm. It is I who pays that toll."

"It is not yours alone to accept." I disagree. "I lost nearly as much as you. And these long two years...they have not been kind to either one of us."

"Then we shall erase these harsh memories." she said softly. I rub my eyes tiredly and she moves to lay her head on my chest as she often used to in camp. Locking her fingers together with mine we lay there in silence as a million thoughts raced through my head. The last few days had felt like a snow laden dream and it was surreal to be laying here having this conversation with the sorceress. Nothing had gone the way I expected since tracking her to the mountains.

Many minutes pass and I did not feel the slightest bit drowsy. There was a single decision to make and I did not have the certitude to make it like I normally did. The difficult choices I'd faced as a leader of men often had only one outcome, one path to take as virtue dictated. My morals had been instilled into me by the forest and my people. I could always rely on them to guide me but they had no solutions at the moment. I need an impetus to sway me one way or the other and it wasn't going to come from within.

"I am split down the middle." I concede. "It is what I feel for you that keeps me at bay. I cannot stand the idea of causing you so much pain again."

Lifting her head up to rest her chin on my sternum she said, "I made my decision to not fear the what ifs the day you arrived. Of all the things your sharp eyes catch you have difficulty seeing the obvious."

I mumble disagreeably and she grips me tighter. "You said earlier today that you love me." she reminded. "Was it true?"

"Of course." I scoff.

"Prove it."

Looking up at the cave ceiling I ask the Creators for strength. Would they bid me to be more chaste or give in to what I wanted for so long? Mythal, goddess of protection and motherhood, did not look kindly upon men who abandoned their families. True that the witch was no blood kin of mine but she had very nearly been my bond mate.

"What say you? " she asked.

I look over at the irresistible sorceress. She is willing, devious, playful, perfect. I had done, in my own estimation, a miraculous job fighting her many charms up to this point. Reaching over to caress her face I lean in to kiss her. "_Ma nuvenin_..." I consent. Gleefully she kisses back and makes joyful noises in her throat. Without breaking contact she slides her hips over mine and her strong, bare thighs make sure that I'm not going anywhere.

Sitting back when she's had her fill looks down on me with her robe threatening to fall off. It had been ages since we were just like this but it felt so natural that I have to wonder if it was a good idea avoiding it.

"Well, this seems familiar." she said coyly. "A roaring fire, furs below us, you underneath me."

"I was just thinking that." I agree. "One thing is missing, through."

"What?"

"The stench of mibari in our clothes."

She laughed and it was genuine, happy. I adored making her laugh. "Not everything need be the same." she purred. "But there is another detail that needs fixing."

"Hmm."

"We are both still dressed."

"Why yes." I nod. "Shall we do something about that?"

"Your misgivings are gone, then?"

"No." I shake my head. "But I can forget about them for the moment."

"Oooh yes, I like this forgetting. Apply this to your pants." she ordered.

The things I did in the name of love.


	4. Mountains & Castles

Dawn. My eyes open to absolute darkness. I haven't gotten a full night's sleep but my internal clock wakes me regardless. After going at it last night on the furs like the old days fairly hard we moved to the bed for two more and I was worried at the time that the loft was going to collapse on us. I was tender in places I'd forgotten could get that way but the night had been worth every ache, physical and otherwise. The witch had taken the brunt of years of pent up ardor and she'd been the one to call for the steamy tryst to be over.

Prodding her I whisper, "Are you awake?"

"Hrrrrrrrrrrmmrmrrrrrrrr..." she responds.

I smile and lean over to kiss her unseen forehead. Going to sit up she makes a grumbling noise and gets her arm around my waist to stop me. "Nuuhhh...not yet..."

"The land calls to me, dear one."

"Mmm...I will go too...just sleep now...so sore..."

"Ach, fine, but I am desperate need of breakfast."

Stealing down to the cave floor I traipse nude through the dark towards the pantry. The slight draft of the room brushes against my well heated flesh and doesn't bother me in the slightest. I'm craving the fattiest things I can find and along with generous portions of meat I get myself a handful of hard biscuits topped with butter. It's a little cold to be sitting on the floor with only furs in between my dangly parts and the stone but Morrigan hates crumbs in the bed. Stuffing myself I should have stopped two biscuits ago but jam everything down anyway. Feeling for the water supply I gulp a few ladle fulls and wash the feast down. Briskly returning to the warm of the bed the witch barely moves as I settle back into my spot.

We finally rise together just before noon and I am unashamed to eat a second breakfast. Joining me as I prepare to venture out into the snow the witch brings along her staff. It would have looked like an ordinary branch had it not been for the otherworldly chill it radiated. An eldritch, gnarled piece of wood it was capable of channeling murderous power that I had seen firsthand many times. I wondered what kind of game she had in mind as we went out into the white.

Morrigan leapt from the cliff face and turned into a large crow mid air. Grumbling to myself I work my way down the mountain slope as she circled overhead. Going out where the trees were thickest the witch-bird flew out of sight but likely very close while I waded through the evergreens. I stop several times to collect a few pounds of mushrooms growing on the bases of the many trees. Examining tracks that criss-crossed in the snow I determine that a raccoon sized quadruped and a hare had passed through less than a day ago. It is a good sign that the forest is so lively even at this season.

Hours pass blissfully in the quiet landscape among the earthy bark and pine scent that surrounds me. I am mindful of the time as I keep track of the sun's hidden progress through the sky and there is plenty of it. I hear a "Caw!" overhead and scan above to see that a crow is looking down at me. She has jarring, solid gold orbs instead of the normal beady black crow eyes and flies ahead to another tree before cawing again. Leading me in this fashion for a few hundred feet I come to a small clearing that I approach with caution.

There are a couple of white goats munching on scant vegetation atop a rocky, broken boulder ten feet high. Jutting and uneven like a tiny mountain the goats blend in almost perfectly against the background of whites, greens and browns. Stealthily I draw two arrows and hold one in my teeth as I get my bow into place. Nocking the the second arrow I aim at the animal presently showing me his broadside for a perfect shot. Creaking the longbow back to almost full draw I release. The arrow buries itself in the creature's chest and the other is spooked as I quickly snatch the first arrow from my mouth. Firing a moment later unharmed goat was still in panic mode when the shot took it just above the leg. The animal buckled and rolled off the small ridge with its legs in the air, dead.

Standing up fully I enter the clearing and stab my bow down into the white powder. Retrieving the arrows from the kills I drag them both in front of the crag. Kneeling into the snow I pray for them in Elvish out loud for Morrigan's benefit and offer my thanks to the gods. Pulling out my carving knife I start to dress them and hear the flutter of a bird landing nearby. Looking up I see a crow standing on top of the snow with its head twisting back and forth as it inspects me. "Looking for a hand out?" I ask.

Another crow swooped down on the first and loudly screeched at it. The bird hopped indignantly away but the second chases it off and I see now that this one has the yellow eyes. "Huh. Sorry. Thought that was you." I comment. "Many pardons. All you _shem_ look alike to me."

She flapped and cawed angrily at me and I laugh as I continue my work. Taking off only to land on my shoulder the witch-bird watches what I do with rapt attention. "Wonder where that guy came from." I say aloud. "Haven't seen many fliers in these parts."

She made a tiny chirping sound and I glance over. Flicking her head upwards I scan the tree line to find four, no, five more crows watching from the branches. Dismayed I have to wonder what they're doing here. "You don't think they've been following me?" I muse. "I suppose I have left a feast for them in the past."

Cheerfully finishing my work I leave the entrails steaming on the snow as I washed my hands with the frozen ice around us. Jumping from my shoulder the witch changes form behind me as I ready the goats for transportation. "Tired of soaring about?" I ask. "I always wondered, if you spend all day flying as a bird, are your arms tired when you change back?"

The witch doesn't answer and comes to stand behind me as I affixed the dragging net to my chest. Waving up at the trees I yell, "Good eating, brothers!"

It is still early in the day but we've bagged enough for the moment. It felt like cheating with her to spot prey but I wasn't about to complain. We walk in silence for a good thirty minutes before I have to speak. "Morrigan."

"Hmm."

"I have to be leaving soon."

The statement doesn't seem to register and I repeat, "Morrigan."

"I heard you." she confirmed.

"You have nothing to say?"

"What can I say?" she looked up at the canopy. "Your true love Ferelden calls. How can I compete?"

I sigh as I tug the goats along. "You say this as if I have a choice in the matter."

"Don't you?"

"No, never." I shake my head. "You have seen the destruction the darkspawn have wrought when massed. Even after a year there we are still cleaning up after them in Ostegar. That was but a taste of the carnage they are capable of."

The sounds of the net scraping against the snow are the only ones that disturb us as I gather my thoughts. "I joined the Wardens to save my own life. I fought the darkspawn to save the forest. I have accomplished both if only for a while."

The witch was inscrutable and I press on. "No one ever asked me what I wanted in all of this. Had I my own way I would oversee the building of New Arlathan myself with you at my side. But I have no such luxury. Ferelden has to be stable to give me Warden recruits. It has to be civil to keep it from warring with my people. And when the darkspawn return, which they will, it must be ready to throw them back. Everything I do is to see what I hold dear safe, the Brecilian, the Dalish...and you."

The witch reads my face but I don't falter. "Come with me, _ma vhenan_." I plead. "Stay here in the mountains no longer. This is no place for you."

"And where, pray tell, would you rather have me be?" she finally spoke.

"In my keep."

"That broken down tower full of ghosts?" she snorted.

"No, Vigil's Keep, where I command from. It has...people and servants and what not. Hot water. Antivan cheese."

"And you, the most important Warden for hundreds of miles, with an apostate mage on your arm? How would that go over with the boorish masses?"

"No one seemed to mind while we were busy saving their land." I counter.

"That was during a Blight. People will be looking more closely at you and your companions now." she pointed out.

"Let them look. The Commander of the Grey bows to no king or queen."

"What about the Chantry?"

"The Chantry!" I spit the word out. "The ones whose 'Exalted March' crushed my ancestors and scattered my people to the wind? What do I care for their fanaticism? I would relish the chance to dip my blades in their sacrosanct blood."

She smiled wickedly at this and I add, "Let them send as many templars as dare. How many enemies have we felled together? With Alistair's shield to protect us we were invincible."

"He was uncommonly good at being hit." she admitted. "But often we would have been overwhelmed had you not an uncanny knack for finding hearts with sharp bits of metal."

We trudged along a few more minutes until I spoke up again. "One week, then I must return to assure people I am still alive. If you won't come right away, at least consider it when I must depart."

We did not speak again while walking back to camp. I leisurely skinned and set the goats to roast in the butchery with plenty of daylight left and only typical soreness in my limbs from all the pulling. Carving off a thick steak for myself I ate in the warm alcove alone. When everything was properly cared for I take a well deserved break to go out into the flat expanse in front of the mountain. It was a little ironic that at this moment the old me, the one who'd never left the Dalish, would have considered what I have here the pinnacle of happiness. Warm fires, plenty to eat, not a single_ shem_ in sight other than the one in my bed. Well, that last one I probably wouldn't have expected...but the gods had a cruel sense of humor. I could not now or ever return to such a peacefully simple life again, not with war and darkspawn blood running through my veins. It was no longer what I am for.

That night we tried to make love again but it hurt her too much to be enjoyable. It was my own fault for not pacing myself earlier but it was all right. On the second day we encountered and killed a black bear that wandered too close to the cave. Morrigan shifted to her giant spider form to drag it back and it took the better part of the day to skin, butcher and collect crafting materials from it. I started the process of making a pliable fur from the skin by setting it to soak in a salt bath. The sinew, claws, bones, fat and select organs would also be used for various purposes as well. Andruil hated those who would waste.

The following week was a blur of nearly carefree happiness and I went out less and less to spend more time with the witch. We talked, shared stories, played games. When she would study her thick tomes I would set to work carving the bones of the animals we caught into useful tools and ornaments. The bear skin was coming along nicely and with a little bit of tailoring back in the city it would make a fine, body length cloak for me with the creature's head forming a hood.

At this point the witch likely had enough meat to last three months or so as I'd helped haul in enough for a small village. It was as good as a vacation as I could think of spending the days near or in her arms but every day that passed reminded me that it was not to last. The realities of my life came creeping back unbidden and I was already thinking of what I would be doing when I returned. There was a meeting with Orlesian Wardens to look forward to, a trade agreement with the viciously stingy dwarves to oversee and my clan down in Ostegar requested my presence at a Dalish summit. All of these things had been put on hold for Morrigan and they would not wait forever.

The last night of my stay comes and I expect some kind of argument or conversation but there was none. She merely began to unbutton my shirt as we prepared to put out the torches for the night.

The seventh day comes and I wake past dawn. I know better than to attempt to get up though. Outside it is a rare day with sun breaking through the clouds. I am somewhat glad of it; if the sorceress changed her mind I would be easier to find when flying overhead. She always slept with an arm, leg, something on me while sometime during the night I always rolled away. I'd become very well reacquainted with her physical form and knew that it would be difficult indeed going without it the next time I turned in for the night. Hugging her nude body I did not let go until she stirred an hour before noon which I had come to understand was normal for her.

With intentional lethargy I got up to light the torches by hand. The witch glides to her vanity and starts her daily ritual as and I had to wonder how many times she did this on her own when no one else was around. It doesn't take me long to prepare for my journey even when done halfheartedly. Resupplying from her larder for the road I leave almost everything else behind except for the luxurious bear fur which would double as a blanket for the moment. Dressing and primping herself fully for the occasion after a light meal I am ready to be on my way.

Setting my things down by the entrance I move to where she is sitting in her study. "It's time." I nod and she gets up to embrace me. We kiss for a few minutes and I savor the warmth that I will be without. I have to smile at her or otherwise it would hard to disguise my disappointment at the way the things had gone. Returning to my packs I retrieve some of the objects I had been working on in secret. On a string of leather I'd made a necklace of polished claws, bear teeth and shards of antler. She had seen me working on parts of it but I had kept the final assembly hidden. The sorceress blushes appreciably and fawns over the craftsmanship as I swell with pride. I would have to do something nice for Master Ilen teaching me to make such things.

"Oh my, this is..."

"No fancy gold and silver one I know but one makes use of the tools available." I explain. "And these are for your protection."

Bringing out two carvings, one of wood and one of bone, I hand her the first, a small, seated wolf made from the local evergreens. "Fen'harel, the Dread Wolf. Put this outside facing away from your home."

She looked over the small statuette that had taken me days to complete. I had taken painstaking care to make marks to imitate fur and paid considerable attention to the face of the god. The last piece was a bone carving of a hawk's head with the most detail surrounding the complex eye patterns of the magnificent bird. "Hawks are sacred to Andruil." I go on. "It is a reminder to care for the land. _Vir Adahlen_, the Way of the Wood: 'Respect the sacrifice of my children and know that your passing shall nourish them in turn.'"

Accepting these gifts she placed them reverently before herself on the desk "If you were coming with me you would have told me by now." I say sadly. "So I will not ask again. Just know that I am never too far away to come help you. There isn't a place you can go that I wouldn't follow."

"Careful Warden, you may promise more than you can imagine." she said with just a hint of satisfaction.

"So be it." I decree. "I go with great sorrow. _Dareth shiral, __ma vhenan."_

"One moment. I have a gift for you." she said. Reaching for my hand she turned it upside down and placed a small piece of wood at the center of my palm. Looking down I chuckle at the shifting ring I had not seen since I left it on her table. The twisting loop of rosewood never seemed to have the same shape when I looked at it.

"You often reach for it when you think or when you're nervous, even though it has not been there." she informed me and I was not aware of this unconscious habit.

"Do I..."

"Maybe I will seek you out. This will greatly aid that effort." she said. "Just don't read too much into it."

Smiling I slide the ring back on. It was nice to have again but when I returned it to the slightly lighter band of skin around my finger I was hit with a jolt of pure affection. My mind was rattled by this new sensation and she put a hand on my shoulder to steady me. The ground felt like it was moving under my feet and the wave of vertigo passed a few seconds later. "What...what is this..."

"I may have adjusted some of the effects." she audaciously beamed. "Now if I am in danger or in need of assistance it will be very clear to you."

The feeling was a small bit of pressure in the realm of my outermost senses that felt like a grudging, almost unwilling fondness that was coming from her. I had to work to focus my eyes and the witch was as bemused as ever. Her face belied what she was really feeling and she gripped my long hair to kiss me again. The feeling spikes and it is almost too much to handle but wonderful at the same time. Breaking off she bit her lip slightly as she regarded me.

"Goodbye, my love. I would like to point out that 'tis you who are leaving me this time."

My face breaks into a woozy, stupefied grin as I say, "I will be back, whether you call me or not." Leaning in to her face I add, "And you will be waiting."

After I gather my things she walks me out to the cliff. Pulling down my white hood I bow and place my hand over my chest. "_Ma vhenan_." she said and I smile. Climbing down from her cave I walk down the mountain into the snow while she looks on from the ledge. There are many miles ahead to reach the familiar roads of Ferelden but it is all right.

The sun breaks through the clouds and when I walk into the beams I remove my hood to let the light fall on my face. The land is beautiful and shining as I work my way north. Practically skipping in the snow I hold on that tiny bit of affection to my soul and in this moment I am hopeful.

The wind blows as it often does but if it was cold I fail to notice.

The End


End file.
